Marcie wandered into the beautiful little shop, that you might not have noticed since it was tucked away on a little side street. Some unidentified noise had her turning her head and peering that way when she noticed a beautifully appointed sign hanging with unique looking chains, handpainted in a delightful colour that beckoned her. She wandered over to take a look.
As she opened the door and walked in, her first thought was ‘how quaint’ but as she continued on into the store, she was completely captivated. She loved art and down every aisle as far as the eye could see, stood paintings of every size imaginable from thimble-sized to canvases four inches in size that depicted a variety of scenes.
The smaller canvases were covered with brightly coloured family scenes depicting early farm life and equipment used, to family gatherings around the country kitchen, to scenes of children playing games outdoors. Each painting told a complete story and she was staggered at the detail.
Slightly larger canvases were displayed next depicting the change in art design lifestyles through the years and she suspected most were during the twenties, thirties and forties. Again, the detail was astoundingly amazing, capturing you, holding you ‘in’ the moment until you were ready to move on to the next.
The larger painting depicted outdoor scenes, most likely local haunts, and again, the rich colour, the details, the paint strokes were beyond incredible. When she reached the back of the shop, her eyes were drawn to the large canvases that ran the gamut from modern, impressionistic, to realism. Each deserved a long study and brought pure delight and enjoyment.
It wasn’t until she heard steps approaching quietly toward her that she tore her gaze away from the spectacular montage of beauty. Lifting eyes filled with stargazing pleasure, she peered into the smiling eyes of a handsome man who had quietly stood watching her expressions as they flitted across her mobile face.
“Hi.” She paused, “I’m completely captivated by the beauty here. Do you have a lot of artists work here?”
“No, I don’t, actually.”
“You mean one individual paints all this beauty?”
“Yes.” She turned to look at him since he hadn’t clarified the question.
“I painted them, all of them.”
“Oh my gosh, they are so incredible. I couldn’t buy one, I’d have to have them all, I’d turn my home into an art gallery. They are beyond exquisite, they are incredible! The light, the movement, the story, the colour, and in each one, not just a single painting, but…”
“I imagine you hear that all the time.”
“No,” he confessed, “not often. There aren’t many art connoisseurs here, but a few drop by and enjoy.”
“You deserve a showing, in a large gallery where the world can witness the beauty of your work.”
“Not my lifestyle,” he admitted. “I paint for the pleasure, and I sell enough to stay afloat. If I added deadlines and rushing around, I wouldn’t enjoy what I do anymore, and there’d be no reason to paint.”
“This is a delightful cache of amazing talent. What can I say? I’m truly at a loss for words.”
“Do you paint?”
“Yes, but not like you! I dabble, I have fun with it, but I wouldn’t dare stand any of my playful artwork alongside yours, I’m sure I’d be laughed out of town.”
“I hardly think that’s possible. Since you have an eye, know what to look for, I imagine your being modest.”
“No, no I’m not.”
“Would you care for a cup of coffee? You can sit and enjoy as long as you’d like.”
Sliding her jacket off her shoulders, she agreed, “I’d love that! Thank you.”